LEILA.
Leila was that beautiful girl, the first to welcome me as I crossed the
threshold of the home. She was a rather reserved, high-strung,
aristocratic-looking girl, who did not always take kindly to requests
made with regard to little household duties required from each member
of the family, health permitting, of course.
One day shortly after my advent in the home I had occasion to reprimand
her. She turned on me with such language and so evil, so distressing an
expression as to shock and grieve me terribly. Presently the dear Lord
gained a glorious victory. I hunted her up; for, in her anger, she had
gone into hiding, and, putting my arms about her, lovingly implored her
to forgive, as I had not intended to offend or in any way remind her of
her dreadful past. From that time on we were great friends. Before long
she confided to me her troubles, past and present.
Her people were poor and proud, and she did not take kindly to her
environments either at home or at school, and did not go quite through
the grammar grades. Her mother, from whom she inherited her temper,
frequently quarreled with her and also disparaged her. At the age of
fifteen, partly because of her restlessness and partly because of her
desire to earn money, for she would no longer go to school, she, being
quite a tall, well-developed girl, procured a situation as waitress in
a wealthy family near her home in the city of San Francisco. She was a
Catholic. Because of her duties, she attended early mass. One Sunday
morning, whilst she was returning from church, her prayer-book
accidentally slipped out of her hand. Upon stooping to pick it up, she
discovered that she was forestalled by a well-dressed gentleman (?),
who handed it to her with an admiring look and most respectful bow.
Raising his hat, he politely passed on.
As Leila never expected to see him again, imagine her astonishment at
meeting him the following Sunday, when again, with a glance of
recognition, which flattered this poor victim, he most respectfully
raised his hat. The third Sunday the same thing occurred again, but now
instead of passing by, he politely accosted her with words to this
effect: "Good morning, young lady. I trust you will please pardon the
great liberty I am taking. I never more earnestly wished to know of
some one to introduce me, but because I do not, will you not kindly
take the will for the deed, waive all formality, and permit me the
honor of walking at least a portion of your way with you? _I am a
gentleman with whom you need not for a moment hesitate to be seen;_ and
now, may I have the pleasure of learning your name? Mine is Claude
Forrester."
Poor innocent, ignorant, flattered Leila began blushingly to confide to
this villain her true name, her occupation, and much concerning her
home life. As they neared her employer's residence, they parted, she
promising to meet him for a walk one evening during the week. Her heart
fluttered with joy, her silly head was completely turned at having
captured so fine an admirer, and she could hardly wait for the time to
come when she was to enjoy that promenade.
You may be sure he was on hand at the designated corner. Leila, in
order to keep the appointment, resorted to falsehood. She asked
permission of her mistress to be allowed to go home for some trivial
article, promising to return by a given time. She kept her word as to
the time, but the leaven of the adversary was rapidly working. He led
her to believe that he was the son of a wealthy widow who expected him
to make "a good match," but that he was in the habit of gaining his
point with this indulgent parent whenever he so desired. He intended,
he said, to confess to his mother that he had fallen in love with the
most beautiful, innocent, and virtuous girl in all the wide world, and
to tell her that he should never be happy again unless she would see
Leila and eventually consent to her becoming his dear little wife. He
told the confiding girl that he intended to lavish on her all his
wealth. He pictured the beautiful garments that she was to wear, the
jewels, the carriage, the home. He promised also to give her private
lessons in order to fit her for her position as his wife. Poor, poor
little girl! Who does not pity this worse than motherless child?
How distasteful her position now appeared, and how she longed for
Sunday morning when she again would see her grand, wealthy sweetheart!
When they met, he informed her that his mother would like to meet her,
requested her to look her prettiest on the following Tuesday evening,
and to be at the appointed street corner, and said that he would take
her to his home and introduce her to the one now so desirous of making
the acquaintance of the girl with whom he had fallen so desperately in
love.
Alas, poor Leila! By another falsehood she procured permission to go
out. She was ushered into a fine-looking room in a house on Mason
Street, and soon a grandly dressed lady, young looking to be this
villain's mother, greeted her very cordially, asked many questions, and
then rang for refreshments, which a Chinaman servant soon carried in on
a tray--and _when Leila next awoke it was broad daylight_. What was she
doing in this strange room?
It wasn't long before she succumbed to all the vices and evil
influences governing the life she was now destined and even resigned to
lead.
About a year later, when she was no longer of value to her betrayers,
when she was an outcast whom no one wanted--no one but her Savior and
some of the consecrated children of God--at this time she was sitting
on a table in a "Ladies' entrance" department of a saloon. There one of
God's rescue missionaries so lovingly approached her that Leila,
longing to get away from San Francisco for fear of being recognized by
her mother and friends, was easily induced to come to the home, where
she had lived for several months when I first met her.
The time came when she gave her heart to her Savior and then followed
his example in baptism. It was one of the sweetest experiences of my
Christian life to help prepare her and some others that evening for
this beautiful, sacred ceremony. What a happy, happy family returned to
our home and retired to our rest an hour later!
But alas! some acquaintance discovered Leila's whereabouts and conveyed
the information to her mother. One day, on coming home from some errand
of mercy, I was informed by the matron, now sufficiently recovered to
be with us once more, that she had a surprise for me, and she asked me
to guess. My first guess was, "My darling boy has come back to me."
"No; guess again."
"Then it must be my husband."
"No; I am going to tell you. Listen! Do you hear that loud weeping in
the parlor?"
"Yes."
"It's Leila's mother. She is in a fearful state because her daughter is
an inmate of a rescue home. Come in and help me to try to pacify her."
It was a difficult task, but on our promising to bring her daughter in
if she would be calm, an effort on her part soon proved successful.
Soon mother and daughter were alone. In about fifteen minutes Leila
called us, and in our presence the mother promised that, if we would
only let her dear child return with her to her own home, _under no
circumstances would she ever remind her of the past_ and also would
make her life pleasanter for her in the future. It was impossible to
refuse. Leila, with tears and prayers, soon bade farewell to us all.
I would that I might record that in the future it was well with her and
her soul, but alas! I can not. One day her mother, because of some
trivial offense, forgot her solemn promise. Poor Leila flew into a rage
and, without even waiting for her hat, rushed out of the house never to
return, and once more the enemy had her back in his territory. Long but
vainly did we search for her until she was so far gone that she coldly
refused all God's and our overtures of mercy, and no language of mine
could describe her awful physical condition. She was only nineteen, but
an utter wreck, morally as well as otherwise. Her own mother would not
now have been able to recognize her.
We find no occasion to moralize in closing this story. We know that
your tears will fall and that your heart will ache, but oh! be warned,
and warn others. Full well do we who are rescue workers know there are
_thousands of cases today parallel with this one_.